Annals of The Lily Maid ASide Stories (Movie)
by starcompass
Summary: Gilbert's version of his and Anne's movie(Anne of Avonlea) love story. This is also Annals of the Lily Maid chapter 2, but I wanted to be more organized, so I move the Aside stories to it's own place. I just didn't want to lose the reviews :) Please R&R :
1.

ANNALS OF THE LILY MAID  
Side-story 1: Bittersweet  
by aircompass  
  
I realized that I simply could not include this story as part of the annals itself.   
The storyline of the movie is entirely too difficult to fit into the storyline of   
the books. Especially since, in the books, Gilbert never got engaged to Christine   
in the first place, right? :) R+R please?  
  
DISCLAIMER: Many thanks to LM Montgomery and Kevin Sullivan Films.   
I wrote this story, but everything else belongs to them.   
  
I thought it would be easy.  
After all, if I left home, I would have left everything that reminded   
me of my grievance. With the respectable excuse of studies behind me,   
there would not be much gossip left to be bothered with. I figured at  
school, I'd be too busy thinking about science and medicine, I'd have  
time for nothing else.  
I thought maybe I'd forget, little by little. Maybe I'd start to  
realize that she was right. Maybe, there really was nothing more to  
the humanity in my heart, than extreme loneliness and unconditional   
love for a dear friend. Maybe she was never ever meant to be with me,   
but to belong to someone who wrote high-faluting mumbo-jumbo in praise   
of her. To flourish beyond all others and make the world fall completely   
in love with her. While I would stand completely in awe and watch them   
crumble the same way I did for her. And I would wonder sometimes, how   
God could present such a gift then leave her on a shelf I would  
never reach, to admire her but never actually touch her.  
I had learned, at an early age to bury my feelings far, far beneath  
the epidermis. My life was a bit of a farce, being that I kept myself  
beneath a carefully applied mask. I keep my love and almost every   
emotion inside as well. I reveal all when I they are too overwhelming  
or I am completely certain to be understood. Yet this has failed me on  
occasion, and I have suffered the consequences.   
I've always encountered people looking for perfection and at one time  
or another, I find I seek it as well, in myself. But I am completely, totally  
and vulnerably full of imperfections. Hey, I live on the male side of the  
species. Women, all women could certainly tell me what was wrong with  
me. And Anne seemed to be one of the few who could tell me so to my  
face.   
Anne Shirley was infuriatingly flawed, yet in my eyes, no one could  
be more perfect. She had me the moment she broke my slate over my  
head, but I had known it for certain the day of Matthew Cuthbert's   
funeral. My person had never been seized by such a longing to alleviate  
and destroy all the evil that could hurt her.  
And I waited. It was clear she didn't want to hear of romance from me.  
She needed a chum, I needed her for much more than that. But a chum  
is what she wanted, so I chum I would be. But she refused me when I  
forced myself to tell her, and so I came to school, hoping against hope  
to forget her. I almost did.  
  
Her name was Christine Stuart.  
She was very kind, very sweet and quite lovely to look at. I found   
myself believing sincerely that I was in love with her and Anne, who I   
had loved for years, was nothing but a chum and mere infatuation. After   
all, Christine was a fine girl. She seemed to care for me genuinely, and   
I in turn found myself caring for her. She was not at all hard to like.   
Her family wasn't difficult to get along with either.   
I clung to her like a child to a security blanket.   
Christine made me think of other things. I concentrated on school and   
worked hard to achieve my goals. Christine came from a prominent family   
of doctors. Her father was one, and her brother(my friend, Andrew) was   
studying to be one. I would often find myself welcomed into her home and   
there was nothing to stop me from believing that I loved her and could   
marry her. So I asked her and for awhile, everything seemed perfect.  
  
"So how long will you be gone?" Christine asked reproachfully, her face   
rather elongated by her expression.  
"Not very long, Chris." I laughed, and affectionately brushed hair from her   
forehead. Her expression remained troubled though somewhat comforted. "Just   
a week..."  
"A lot can happen in a week, Gilbert. I fell for you in the span of a week,   
you could fall in love just as easily." I shook my head. At the time, I   
chuckled, being humored by her insecurities. "I knew Father would do   
something like this! What if you find someone else?"  
"Don't be silly. You're the one I'm marrying." she smiled, fell into my arms   
and kissed me. No, it was not an uncomfortable position to be in. I had   
accepted the fact sometime before that something was always missing with   
Christine. I would kiss her and hold her close, but it never felt EUPHORIC.   
Christine made me smile...but happy? At the time, I thought it was the same   
thing. Our lips would meet, our bodies would touch and it felt ordinary. I   
didn't think there was anything beyond that.  
  
So I left the next day, in the morning.   
I had received a letter from Miss Stacey some days before leaving, proudly   
narrating the doings of Anne Shirley. She seemed well, and enclosed was an   
article detailing Anne's brilliance.  
I had shared the article with Christine. All she knew about Anne was that   
we were great schoolchums. She saw nothing to be a cause of jealousy and   
discarded Anne from her mind. They had never met but she had heard of Anne,   
I had talked about her a great deal. But, seeing Anne was far from my thoughts,   
she decided it was nothing. I had a job, a duty to perform at the conference   
for my would-be father-in-law, and I was determined to do it well. I admired   
her father greatly and wanted him to be proud. He rather served as a   
mentor...and I dearly needed him to be impressed. Not for his daughter.   
For myself.  
  
Three days later, it was finally over.   
The convention was great. I thought it would be hellishly dull. It was   
actually quite interesting but the real action happened on my last day. The   
last day in Kingsport was one I had to myself, so I decided to go about my   
business. I went around the town, picking up a gift here and there for the  
people I would be coming home to.  
Finally, I started back to the place taking the long, beautiful way back  
to relax myself before going home.   
And there she was.  
She was crouched down to pick up something she had dropped. It was something  
so normal, so human and yet I felt myself drawn to her all over again. It was   
not that I realized I still loved her. I DID, but that came later on. I suppose   
it was the idea that I was seeing her and I was happy. But I hadn't forgotten   
Christine, but before I could stop myself...  
"Anne Shirley?! What in heck are you doing here?!?!" she looked up, and I found  
myself wishing I had seen her more often in the past year. Her hair was up and  
pulled away from her face, her cheeks rosy. She was the picture of youth as she  
broke into a grin.   
"Gil?" she said delightedly. "You're the very last person I'd expect to see on  
a day like this!!!" I was smiling from ear to ear, but felt a queer throb in  
my heart as I clasped her to me in a hug. I heard the beginnings of a shower  
and let go of her.  
"Uhm..." I spotted a gazebo not very far away. It was as if the entire universe   
conspired to make this moment, this memory of my life impossibly unforgettable.  
"Come on..." And we ran to the gazebo. "The Royal Academy of Physicians is   
convening here this weekend, and I'm here as a delegate..." I began.  
"You must be proud of yourself." she replied warmly. I grinned.  
"Not as proud as I was of you when I read that clipping Miss Stacey sent me  
about the success of your play..."   
"That's sweet of you Gil." she paused and looked up at me. "It's so good to see   
you..." I was VERY glad to hear that. I was happy to see her too.  
"Oh," I said nonchalantly. "I was actually hoping we'd run into each other. I  
wasn't sure whether you'd be happy to see me or not, so I --" I have this habit  
of manipulating my words so that I'd get the person I'm talking to to tell me  
what they really feel.  
"Happy?!" Looks like it works. Hey, I'm not complaining. It's handy at times  
like these. "I can't begin to express my happiness! Let me look at you..."   
"Ah yes, do I look like a young medical student now?" I teased.  
"Not a bit. You can't fool me! You're still the same incorrigible Gil... Tell  
me all the Avonlea news. Have you been back?"  
"Uh..." No time like the present. Somehow, I felt that if I didn't tell her,  
I wouldn't be able to bring myself to tell her. In fear of forgetting Christine  
altogether, or falling in love with her all over again. But of course, I had  
no idea this was the cause of my churning stomach. "No. I've been spending most  
of my time at Halifax. Dr. Stuart's a very prominent surgeon. It was he who  
arranged for me to attend as his delegate...you see, Christine and I are   
engaged. It's set for next summer." Anne paled and was silent for a moment.  
"I'm so happy for you Gil..." she said softly. My heart squeezed itself and my   
blood didn't just run cold, it dried up. I needed to somehow, make her see what  
was going on, I desperately needed her to be the person she was at the bridge,  
before I made the decision to tell her. Anne was still my first love.  
"I guess that's why I wanted to see you so much -- to apologize for being such a fool   
last summer." Anne shook her head, in the manner she did when she was thinking of  
what to say. "No, I think I understand now what you meant. I meant what I said, too.   
I won't ever forget you."  
To emphasize my point, I caressed her cheek. It took me back to the day she had   
thanked me for the Avonlea school. She had blushed, my heart had swelled and I  
burned with a feirce affection watching her. She stood up.   
"You turned out as I always imagined you would. Doesn't it seem like yesterday we off to  
Queens and vying for those scholarships?" she said, changing the subject. I hadn't   
listened to her the last time she had done this, the day I had asked her to marry me.   
I had learned my lesson. She didn't want to think about it, and frankly, I didn't either.  
But, if she thought she could steer this conversation, she was wrong. As you can see,  
this is another one of my striking imperfections.  
"I suppose you've kept up your writing." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.  
"Not really. I've been busy, and, well, publishers aren't interested in those kinds of   
stories." Where did she grow this cynicism? I mean, I told her to tone down, and not  
fly so high up. Did I completely undo her? I certainly hoped not. I was being frank at  
the time. There had to be some way to remedy this block of hers.  
"Well, I wouldn't give up all together. You know, I always thought you should write   
about Avonlea. Change the name, of course, or Rachel Lynde would think she was the   
heroine." That's right, Blythe. Nice and easy. Real smooth. She laughed gaily.  
"Avonlea is the dearest place in the world. But I don't think it's an interesting enough   
setting for a story." This again? I thought she'd have gotten over this thinking by now.  
"Oh, I intend to take Christine back to the Island with me and set up my practice  
there. Dr. Stuart has a lot of pull in Halifax and would like us to live there, but I don't   
want any hand-outs. Besides, any other place just wouldn't seem like home to me."   
It's the truth. Kingsport and other places seemed too posh for me.  
"No, of course. The board of governors at the College just offered me a five-year   
contract." she replied lightly. I was impressed, but it wasn't as if I hadn't expected  
it. Oh, but I was so proud of my Anne-gi--- I mean, Anne. Where did that come from?  
"Well, that's wonderful. You certainly won your way into the hearts of this affluent,   
old town. You won't be lonely." She never would be. I was certain of that fact. Anne  
was sweet, and pretty and kind...and...forget it.  
"I'll survive." Anne said it almost reassuringly. She smiled sweetly as she said it. I  
felt my breath catch in my throat. And then, there it was. It had uncovered itself. The   
extraordinary madness of my otherwise sane life burst through the armor I had   
smothered it in. I had to get out of there. All of a sudden, everything I had ever loved  
about her, everything I had tried so hard to eradicate fell over me like rainwater.   
The realization overwhelmed me. I LOVED HER . I NEVER STOPPED. I NEVER  
WOULD. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. I had to get out of there while I could still  
dig myself out. If I didn't leave, I would successfully end up hurting Christine and Anne,  
and Anne would succeed in hurting me.   
She didn't love me, she never would love me in the way I wanted her to.  
"Well, I ought to go. The train leaves at 5:30." Good thing it was true. I couldn't have  
handled having to lie my way out.  
"Oh, no, really?" Yes, Anne, now stop looking so damn pretty. Oh yeah, her card.  
"Oh, I, was going to mail this, but a note just isn't the same." I handed her the  
card. I am very very proud of her. But I still can't have her, can I? Her eyes light up  
in excitement. Her fingers fumble excitedly.  
"Thanks, Gil." Before she can even open the envelope, I seize my moment. I want to  
love her, much more than I have wanted to love her before. I want her so much to  
know that...that she is absolutely beautiful and wonderful. I want to take her in my  
arms and grant myself the ultimate insanity plea by kissing her. I want to find the  
damn madness that only she could ever trigger. I want her to love me too. But, she  
is not mine to have. Her lips are not mine to kiss. My heart is ready to implode. But  
I take my moment, from the few I have with her and take her in my arms for a hug.  
"Goodbye, Anne." It hurts.  
"Goodbye, Gil." I pull away.  
"Don't forget me." I mean it. Because I sure as hell won't forget her.   
  
I went straight back to the hotel and packed everything. Then I took up my bags,  
then left Kingsport behind me. I came to the station early, picked my position and  
started studying for the exam waiting for me back at college. Then I hear her calling  
me. At first, I believe I'm hallucinating, then I see her outside the window. The train  
is fast pulling away. I run outside. I did choose the end car.  
"Gil! Thank you!" she screams, but her eyes are dancing, she's flushed from her run  
and she is absolutely beautiful. "Goodbye!"  
"Goodbye Anne!" I holler back. It seems so very final to me.  
  
END :) 


	2. I Battle With Myself

ANNALS OF THE LILY MAID  
Side-story 2: I Battle With Myself  
by aircompass  
  
Much thanks to my lovely, lovely kindred internet friends :)  
for all the fantastic ideas, precise editing and great  
stories :) Especially to Kristi, Bianca and Martha :)   
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything :). I just write the stories. :)  
  
I waved my hand at the lone figure standing in the foggy Kingsport   
weather. She smiled warmly, her chin lifted with a seemingly   
determined expression.   
So, this was it. She would stay in Kingsport where so many had   
grown to love her. Her mind would remain free of the troubles mine   
was full off.   
I was saying goodbye AGAIN.  
TO HER, the elusive redhead who hadn't wanted my heart, but snared   
it anyway. She's kept it ever since. DAMMIT, I cursed. I had learned to   
curse in college. I have not shaken the habit, and have no intention of   
shaking it. Especially in situations like these.   
I clung to the thread holding me to my sanity.   
I was torn. I wanted to get off of the train and stay with her, lost in the   
misery of unrequited love. DAMMIT, again. But I couldn't allow myself   
that because she'd made it clear once that she would never love me.   
Not in the way I want her to, anyway. If I DID abandon everything and   
run to her, she wouldn't…we couldn't…no. I couldn't afford to throw   
myself down that same spiral, thoroughly convincing her that she   
didn't need me around.   
Her friendship. At least, I had that.   
Anne had a power over me that I could never understand. She had   
always managed to awaken things in me that I had almost forgotten I   
had. No, it wasn't passion, if that's what you're thinking, although it   
wasn't completely unrelated to that.  
Don't look at me like that. It's true. I'm a man; a man usually feels   
these things. But, that's beside the point. Anne always made me   
realize how blindly I threw myself into my life, forgetting to stop   
sometimes or slow down. It was almost as if she taught me how to   
breathe. Her goodbye was something else. Everything about her had   
embedded themselves into my memory: her flushed cheeks, shining   
eyes, and lilting voice. In my heart, I felt an unexplainable sense of   
dread, as if it was the last time I would see her.   
And so I sat, unseeing, forgetting my studies momentarily. There was   
no point to it. Had I even attempted to resume, I would learn absolutely   
nothing, making everything a waste of time. I was confused, befuddled.  
I could not find a way to comprehend what had happened. I refused to   
believe that I could lose control so quickly.   
How could five minutes with her send me to my undoing?  
It had been a meeting of friends, no kisses exchanged or passions   
shared. Just friendly banter. And yet, it had been the morning of my   
soul, rousing itself from an undisturbed sleep.   
How could I love her after all the time that I spent forgetting her? Can   
one ever forget a brush with love? Did I truly TRULY still love her? Or   
had I imagined myself into an alternate universe, pretending I'd forgotten   
her? Was that my way of shedding some optimism to the fact that she   
cared nothing for me?   
Oh, she made me CRAZY.  
Completely NUTS.  
And I couldn't do a thing about it, besides sitting on my damn arse   
staring at my books like an idiot, on a %$#@!&+ train back to my fiance   
who had warned me about taking this trip!  
CHRISTINE. I had almost forgotten about her and she was going to   
meet me at the Halifax station in fifteen minutes. Oh boy, I hit rock bottom   
and I hadn't even noticed the ton of crap tumbling over me. Maybe, just   
maybe, things would change once I was with Chris again.   
I buried myself in the incoming crowd, as if I were placing myself in the   
same position as my state of mind. Christine told me that she would pick   
me up, but I had no interest, no excitement at the thought of seeing her. I   
felt helplessly trapped, and it was clear to me that there was no way for   
me to dig myself out of the pit I'd thrown myself into.  
  
I walked out into the Halifax night aimlessly, not really paying attention to   
where I was going. Luck seemed to hate me because I walked smack into   
the person I had wanted to confront the least.   
She was not a welcome sight, though normally I would say that it was a   
pleasure to see her. Christine had always been lovely. She had masses   
of dark hair, dusky blue eyes, and smooth rosy cheeks. At that moment,   
she was in her element.   
She looked up surprised, and I saw the rapture in her eyes.   
"GILBERT!" She exclaimed, her smile lit up her entire face. "I thought I'd   
never be able to find you because of all of these people!!!" I nodded weakly   
and squeezed her arm. She looked up at me, and her eyes flickered   
hesitantly over my face. Worry clouded them slightly, but she said nothing.  
"I'm a bit tired, Chris." I began. She nodded and I let go of her. Chris   
looked troubled, but smiled hesitantly, expectantly.  
"All right." she said, tugging on my sleeve. "C-come on. I'll walk you home."   
I shook my head I had to be alone to think things through and analyze my   
situation. she needed to understand that. Leaning over, I kissed her   
forehead affectionately and gave her a droopy grin, emphasizing my   
exhaustion.   
"I need to be alone for awhile," I began. "I'll be fine walking home. I'm a   
healthy young lad! And a med student!" I said good-naturedly. She perked   
up a bit and nodded.  
"Alright." Almost as an afterthought, she added, "So I'll see you tomorrow?  
Dinner, Mother's expecting you."  
I thought about it. "I'll see what I can do." I said. I thought I saw a glimmer   
of doubt in her face, but I shook it off. How could she know? Then, she   
smiled and hugged me tightly. Her voice trembled, but I gave the cold night   
air credit for that.  
"I-I just wanted you to know that I missed you." she whispered softly, the   
smallness of her voice struck a chord in me. What had I done to the girl?   
As she pulled away, I patted her cheek and brushed some hair off her   
forehead.  
"I missed you, too."  
  
Walking home by my lonesome, I realized I was telling the truth. I HAD  
missed Chris. I missed having her around, she made me laugh.  
She was a male fantasy. Beautiful, rich, accomplished, sweet and  
she loved me more than I loved her.   
I had pursued her, now I had her.  
What else could I possible want?  
  
It hit me at 3AM in the morning.  
I could not sleep, therefore I did not even attempt slumber. There, the   
answer found me, pondering my life in the comfort of my sheets.   
I realized what it was exactly that I wanted.  
Christine Stuart. I wanted Christine Stuart, but I needed Anne Shirley.  
That made all the difference. I saw what it meant to me. Anne was   
absolutely everything. Everything that was true, and beautiful and sweet  
in my life. Christine could only come up to a fraction of that, no matter  
what she did. Chris didn't have that je ne se qoi. Anne had been born  
with it.  
Her lilting voice echoed softly in my ear, her words the day at the barn.  
"...But you want someone who will adore you, who will be happy to  
hang on your arm and pull the home for you!!!" her eyes had flashed  
despairingly, as if I didn't understand. I had answered her passionately,  
trying to change her mind.  
"Anne, that is NOT what I am looking for at all!!!" I shot back.  
I AM a fool. She'd tried to tell me something, and I just could not see  
past my own self-involvement. I'd been so proud, so afraid of risking  
myself that I didn't see how badly I could hurt others. I was wrong. And  
she had seen me so clearly, past the armor I had shrouded myself in.  
She knew me like no one else did, knew me when I could barely  
understand myself. That's WHY I needed her.  
Anne was right.  
I had asked Christine to marry me because she DID adore me, and she  
was more than willing to be the WIFE. The little lady, the missus.  
Just like my mother.   
I blanched when I realized it. Pop Psychology...my childhood plagued me  
like the smell of smoke. You could never get it to go away. Why HAD my   
father married my mother? He'd loved Marilla once...not that it mattered  
anymore.  
I COULD be happy with Christine. It wasn't such a large thing to ask.   
I mean, there were a few things we couldn't agree on, like children. She  
didn't want children. I wanted a house exploding with them. But I couldn't  
let a little thing like that destroy my clarity...  
I wasn't incapapble of loving Chris. I didn't love her the way I did Anne,   
but it was enough for me to compromise my life, right? RIGHT?  
I would be at the Stuarts for dinner.  
  
END :)  
Next installment will come...soon? :) Maybe :) 


	3. The Sign

ANNALS OF THE LILY MAID  
Side-story 3: The Sign  
by aircompass  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything, I just wrote this story :)  
  
Gilbert was preoccupied. He'd been preoccupied for the past two months.  
Christine shook her head, lost in her thoughts. She turned towards the  
fingers he held in his hand. Sighing, she saw the irony of the whole  
situation. So she wore his ring on her finger and held his hands in her   
own.  
But if he wasn't really there, what use were they?  
Since he'd returned from Kingsport, things had been different between  
them. Granted, there had always been something a tad out of place in  
the relationship. A small strain that she believed they'd outgrow. She   
thought that as the years progressed it would right itself eventually.  
Now that he was back, the whole relationship was more crooked than  
it was when he left.  
Christine knew that Gilbert had deep realms within himself that he kept  
locked away. They were his sanctuary. It was not that no one had ever  
managed to enter, but that no one had ever managed to stay there with   
him. Not even she could understand those parts of himself, and that   
caused a gap between them.  
Christine watched him like she had countless times. He was reading,  
simply drifting away to his own world, lost in his own thoughts. She  
loved him through cynicism. She no longer believed in apassionata.  
Christine thought that this simple mutual affection between her and  
Gilbert was simply, as good as it got. It wasn't that she didn't want that  
passion for herself...just that she no longer thought it could happen.  
Not to her, at least.   
She forgot her thoughts momentarily as Gilbert shifted, removing his  
hand from hers. She reached out to capture his hand again, only for him  
to turn a page. It was funny, she thought, lifting her hand and flexing her   
fingers slightly.   
There are things you work so hard to keep for yourself. You reach out  
and grab it, struggling to keep it in your fingers. And when you've wasted  
all your energy, you find that you'd only been holding your fist closed.  
Christine smiled sadly. It was prodigious, but true.   
She'd only been holding herself.  
  
I gripped my hair in frustration. Two months! Wasn't that enough?  
Why couldn't that red-head fade away??!?!?!!? She consumed my   
every thought, my every action. Her unforgiving presence lurked about  
each second. I was supposed to be studying for a test AGAIN and this  
distraction proved to be most unhelpful. I didn't even know what it was  
I was attempting to study.  
I sighed noisily and literally buried my face in the book before me.   
I hadn't wanted to see her that day. I was happy to be getting married.  
Telling her the news was different. I knew how she felt about this.  
Anne hadn't wanted Diana to marry Fred. Even if I was nowhere near   
as important to Anne as Diana had been, I knew she would, even in  
the slightest bit, be disturbed by it.  
Anne hated the idea of changing. She didn't like it when something  
removed itself from the mold she'd put it in because it required HER  
to adjust as well. And she was tired of adjusting. She'd spent the  
first ten years of her life in constant change and it wearied her to   
keep doing so. Her first taste of stability had been at Green Gables,  
and since then she fought hard to keep her control.  
Marraige was an interruption to her continuity. A prelude to change,   
and change terrified her. Anne often painted on a mask of composure   
and optimism, but worried inwardly.  
The moment I told her, the same panic that rippled briefly across her   
face when she'd seen Diana and Fred courting crossed her features   
once again. It caused me to wonder how Anne valued me.  
Was it merely change that caused her to be less than thrilled about  
my engagement? Did I really believe that I was deluding myself? I  
sighed again. I'd been sighing too much in the past months. I just  
needed a sign, a go signal in the direction I should take.  
Problem was, no one knew where to point me either.  
  
I was surprised to receive a letter.  
My father was John Blythe, we both lived the unspoken and unwritten  
rule of being male. Reveal only the emotions that were absolutely  
necessary, and know when enough is enough. I was raised in this   
manner of thinking, so it surprised me to receive a letter from him.  
It was both pleasant and unnerving. We were great friends, my father  
And I...but he'd never written before.  
Unfolding the pages, I began to read.  
  
Dear Son,  
I write this because I know you will understand and use the  
truths I'll be relaying to you to your advantage. I trust   
you to find the right in all this, and to discover the right  
in yourself.  
To begin with, you told your mother and I that you were   
engaged. To be married. To Christine Stuart. She's a good  
girl, and there is a great chance that she will make the  
rest of your life thoroughly satisfactory.  
But something has been bothering me when you called home and  
told us. You said you were happy, but your voice held traces  
of something sorrowful.  
Tell me the truth, Gilbert. Do you love Christine Stuart?  
  
My fingers trembled as I turned the page.  
  
I know you Gilbert. You are undeniably my son, because I see  
myself in your every aspect.   
Let me tell you the truth about my marriage. Your mother and  
I are great friends, and we love each other quite a lot. Yet  
there have been times when I wonder what my life would have  
been like if I had married someone else.  
Never compromise your life, Gilbert, if there is something   
else you really want. If you settle, others will be hurt as  
well, even if you believe it is for the best.  
I hurt your mother by marrying her. What we had was   
friendship, nothing could change that. Some people are really  
meant to be friends, and others are meant to be lovers. We   
do love each other Son, your mother and I have many good  
years together. But it is...you understand what I mean don't  
you? I just don't want you to make the same mistakes I did.  
I want you to be happy.  
You do understand, don't you?  
  
END Chapter 3 :) How was that? :)  



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